


Chicken Ramen Soup (College!Au)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, College!AU, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Overprotective Dean, Reader-Insert, art student, chicken ramen soup, college students, lovey-dovey deanie weanie, mention of Sam/Jess, reader - Freeform, sick reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you get sick and dean takes care of you</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken Ramen Soup (College!Au)

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who's read this before and saw that it's been updated, I just went through and fixed a few spacing issues and a couple of commas. I want to say thank you everyone who read this and gave it a kudo, it makes me so happy! Thank you all! :)

It was the last semester of your senior year of college. California State University Sacramento wasn’t your dream, but it was in a price range that you and Dean could afford. Not to mention it was only two hours away from Stanford.  
It was important to Dean to stay close to his little brother. Sam was attending Stanford for its prestigious law program. You hardly minded, Sam was a cool guy and you had become close friends with his girlfriend Jessica. Two hours was far enough that you and Dean could have your own life but still be connected to Sam and Jess.  
You were almost done with your arts degree, but Ms. Rawnie’s class was going to be the death of you. Your first big project was due tomorrow and you hadn’t even started yet. 

Ms. Rawnie had made sure to stress that, “It counts for a test grade and there are only four tests this semester. Which means y’all better have some kickass projects if you want to pass this class.”

For the project you had to paint a realistic tree on a 48x72 canvas. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do last minute. And yet, there you were at 7pm, sitting in the park, painting a tree. It was pretty cold outside and you had finished your warm coffee an hour ago. The street lamp only provided so much light and the wind was being less than helpful. Yep, you definitely should have started sooner.

You just hadn’t been inspired. You had tried to make a couple of sketches throughout the week, but had stopped part way through each. None of them had felt right. 

But now, here sitting in the cold winter air, you finally found it. The way the moonlight shone on the tree was truly beautiful. As soon as you saw it, you knew that’s what you wanted to paint. You set to work.

☾ 

It was close to one in the morning by the time you made it back to your and Dean’s apartment. 

Your cell phone had died somewhere around hour two, so you didn’t have a way to call Dean for a ride. You had to walk all the way home, lugging the stupidly large canvas with you. During your walk, you berated yourself for not leaving Dean a note. If you had, maybe he would have come to pick you up by himself. But no, you were too busy cramming to think about being smart like that.

You were exhausted, but it was so worth it. The painting was gorgeous. Ms. Rawnie would give you an A on it for sure. So when you finally made it home with sore feet, bags under your eyes, a runny nose, and chattering teeth, you couldn’t be bothered to give a care. Because it was all worth it.

Dean on the other hand, didn’t quite agree.

You had been fumbling with trying to get your keys out of your bag when he flung the front door open.

“Where in God’s name have you been?” he practically shouted.

“At the park painting?” you said cautiously. You hadn’t expected him to still be awake.

“At the park? Painting?” Dean asked incredulously. He ran a hand through his hair before noticing your shivering frame. “Get in here,” he said dragging you inside.

You carefully set the covered canvas against the wall as Dean shut the door.

“You were painting in the park at one in the morning?”

You nodded, setting your bag on the table and hanging up your coat.

“(Y/N)! What were you thinking? I had know idea where you were! You didn’t answer your phone! You could have been dead for all I knew!”

You walked up and threw your arms around your frantic boyfriend. “But I wasn’t. I’m okay. My cell died, that’s why I didn’t answer. I’m sorry I scared you, I should have told you. That was really kinda dumb. And I’m sorry about that. But I’m freezing, so just shut up and hold me for a minute.”

“Freezing?” Dean suddenly pulled away from you and you frowned. “Babe, you’re hotter than a sauna.”

“What?” you asked sleepily. You didn’t understand, you were freezing. Your nose hadn’t stopped running and your teeth still chattered.

Dean placed the back of his hand against your forehead, pushing your bangs out of your face. “Babe, you’re burning up. Here, come with me.”

Dean grabbed your hand and pulled you into the bathroom. He sat you down on the toilet. Then he dug around in one of the cupboards until he found a thermometer.

“Open up.”

“I’m not a baby, Dean, I’m fine.”

“No you are not. Just come here and let me do this, will you?”

Rolling your eyes, you opened your mouth. Dean placed the thermometer under your tongue and told you to hold still. A few moments later it started beeping. Dean took it out of your mouth and read the temperature, “103 degrees.”

Before you could even say anything, Dean whipped out his phone and called Sam.

“Heya Sammy...yeah I found her...out painting in a park...yes this entire time, she just got home … hey I need you to ask Jessica something for me. (Y/N) is shivering but I think she’s got a fever … 103 … yeah I know, I think so too … yeah so what do I do? … yeah, okay … a huh … alright I think I’ve got it … yes I’ll call if it gets worse … tell Jess I said thanks … and hey, thanks man … yeah whatever bitch … haha, alright goodnight.”

Dean hung up his phone and you looked at him expectantly. “Well?”

“Jessica thinks you caught something from being outside in the cold for so long.”

“I’m sure I’m fine,” you argued standing. You stood up too quickly and got dizzy. You almost fell forward, but Dean’s strong arms caught you.

“No you are not,” Dean said. 

He lifted you bridal style and carried you down to your room. He laid you gently on the bed. Grabbing both of your legs, he pulled off your shoes and socks. Then he got a pair of his old sweats from the dresser. “Here, put these on, I’ll be right back.” 

You shimmied out of your jeans and into his sweats. They were seriously the most comfortable things. Then you plugged in your phone. It came back to life and you winced at the sheer number of missed calls you had from Dean, Sam, and Jess. You suddenly felt really guilty about worrying them so much.

Dean came back in with a bottle of medicine. You pulled back the covers and got into bed. Dean came around and readjusted the pillows behind your back so you could sit with your back against the headboard. He pulled the blanket up around you. Then he carefully measured out the correct dosage of medicine.

“Open up,” he commanded. “Jessica said to give you some cold medicine with Tylenol and to make you some chicken noodle soup. If you get worse or have too much trouble breathing, you have to tell me right away.”

You did as he said and took the medicine. It was the awful tasting grape kind and you stuck your tongue out at him. Dean didn’t react, he just handed over a bottle of water and continued. “Jess says that it’s probably only a little cold or even just a stress fever, but at the worst it could turn into pneumonia. So you have to tell me if it gets worse, okay?”

“Dean, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry? I was looking for you for hours and now you come home sick and I’m not supposed to worry?” he said, anger tinging his words. “You are not okay, and the least you can do is let me take care of you.”

In the smallest voice you answered, “Okay.”

“Good. I’m going to go make some soup. Get under the covers to stay warm and keep sipping that water. I don’t need you to be dehydrated too.”

Dean got up to leave but you grabbed his wrist. You smiled weakly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said before leaving out the door.

Your heart felt heavy as you realized what your absence did to him.

A few minutes later he came back in. “I couldn’t find any chicken noodle soup, so you’re having chicken flavored ramen instead.”

You laughed as he sat down beside you. “Chicken Ramen Soup then?”

Dean cracked a small smile, “Yeah, something like that.”

He turned on the tv and handed you the remote. You found a channel you both liked and snuggled against him. He wrapped his arm around you and held you close. After about 20 minutes he untangled himself from you and got up.

“I’ll go finish the soup. And (Your First and Middle name), if you so much as think about getting out of that bed while I’m gone-”

You laughed, “Don’t worry I’ll be right here.”

Dean tucked the covers around your shoulders and gave you a feather light kiss on your burning forehead. Then he left for the kitchen.

You were five minutes into an episode of Dr. Sexy when Dean came in carrying a bowl and a tv tray. You sat up straighter and pulled the covers down to free your arms. Dean placed the tv tray across your lap.

“Here you go,” he said, “one bowl of fresh Chicken Ramen Soup, on the house.”

You laughed as you accepted the bowl with a “why thank you sir.”

Dean sat down at the end of the bed and pulled our feet out from under the covers. Silently, he began massaging your sore feet while you ate. Once you were finished, Dean took the bowl and the tray back to the kitchen.

You were resting your eyes for a bit when you felt the warm comfort of your blanket removed. “Hey, give it back, I’m cold,” you whined.

“Yeah I know,” he said. Your eyes snapped open when you felt him unbuttoning your overshirt. You gave him a questioning look that was interrupted when he pulled your arms out. He tossed the shirt into the dirty clothes hamper.

“Two points,” you said, shivering.

“Here, put this on,” he said, handing you his sweater. 

It was one of the typical college ones, but it was your favorite. It was a size or so too big for Dean, so your hands didn’t even meet the end of the sleeves. It always smelled like Dean and when you wore it, you felt like you were being wrapped up in his embrace. Whenever Dean was gone for a long time you’d curl up into it to feel safe again.

You threw it back at him. When he gave you a look, you stuck your arms up straight in the air like a child and waved your hands. Dean chuckled a bit and rolled his eyes, but helped you pull it on over your tank top all the same. You wanted to bury yourself in the sweater and never come out.

Dean took the remote and turned off the tv. He set a new bottle of water by your half empty one and a kleenex box beside that. He disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes before coming back out in nothing but a pair of sweats. He clicked off the light before getting into bed beside you. He propped his pillows behind him so he could sleep sitting up. Then he reached over and pulled you on top of him.

You nestled your head into his neck and curled against him. Dean scooted his body down a little so the two of you were in a more comfortable position. Then he pulled the blanket up around your shoulders again, making sure you were fully covered.

You laid in silence for a few minutes. You were exhausted but you didn’t feel right just going to sleep like that. “Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.” You could feel Dean take a tense breath beneath you. “I should have told you were I was going. It was selfish of me, I didn’t think about how worried you would be.”

He let out a slow sigh. “Babe, it’s okay. You’re here now. Just try to get some sleep so you’ll feel better alright?”

“No, it isn’t, it isn’t okay,” you started, turning to face him in the dark room.

Dean reached up and cupped your cheek. “Babe, I mean it, it’s okay. Look, I don’t want to yell at you, okay? So lay down and go to sleep.” You started to protest but he silenced you with a finger to your lips. “Shh, don’t talk. If you really want, I’ll yell at you later, okay? When you’re feeling better. I promise. But for right now all I want is to hold you and get some sleep. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said, laying back down against him.

“Good.”

Dean settled back into the mound of pillows. His left arm curled around your back and held you close against him. He held you as if he thought that if he only held on tightly enough, you would never leave him again. You curled tighter against his toned chest, a silent reply that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You placed your left hand over his heart and he covered it with his right one. You focused on the feeling of Dean’s heart beating under your fingers. You matched your ragged breaths to his sound ones and soon you were asleep.

☾ 

Dean spent the entire next day taking care of you. You insisted that you were fine, but your coughs and sneezes betrayed you. When your temperature still hadn’t gone down, Dean decided that he was taking the day off.

You tried to protest this, you could take care of yourself for one day, but Dean would hear none of it. 

Apparently neither would Bobby or Ellen. Dean had called both to inform them of the circumstances. 

Ellen told you that if you even walked into her bar, to work tonight, she’d skin you alive. Jo and Ash both volunteered to cover your shift. 

Benny agreed to cover Dean’s shift, and Bobby assured Dean that if he saw him anywhere near the garage, he would run him over with his car.

It was kind of hard to argue with that, so you finally gave in about staying home.

You did press about the painting though. It was due today and you didn’t want last night to be for nothing. Dean wouldn’t even consider letting you approach the front door, however. 

In the end, Dean ended up taking your painting to class for you. Apparently the conversation went something like:

 

Dean: “Hello. Sorry, I’m here to drop off my girlfriend (Your Full Name)’s painting?”  
Ms. Rawnie: “She’s hungover isn’t she? Or can she not walk?” *winks*  
Dean: “What?”  
Ms. Rawnie: “Yep, she can’t walk. Good on you.” *gives Dean a thumbs up*  
Dean: “Haha, um no. She’s … she’s got a cold because she was up so late working on her project….”  
Ms. Rawnie: “Oh. Well it’s beautiful and worth the sickness. You’re a good boyfriend.”

 

You laughed when Dean told you this. It was just like Ms. Rawnie. At least she liked the painting. You teased Dean, “See, she says it was worth it.”

Dean gave you a withering look.

☾ 

Besides when he was gone for the painting, Dean didn’t let you out of his sight the whole day. 

He made sure that you took your medicine every four hours on the dot. 

He made sure you were bundled up tightly and that you could breathe properly. 

He sat beside you with water and boxes of Kleenex while the two of you watched a Dr. Sexy marathon. 

He massaged your back and your feet and kept a cool rag on your forehead.

He fed you Chicken Ramen Soup for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

When you complained of a runny nose or a headache, he teased you in retribution. “Was it worth it? Was getting sick and scaring your boyfriend worth it now? Huh? Huh?” Dean lifted his eyebrows in a shit-eating grin.

You glared at him. “Just shut up and hold me.”

Dean laughed heartily, but pressed you firmly against him.

While you didn’t like being treated like a baby, and you certainly did not like being sick, you had to admit that Dean was cute when he was being all lovey-dovey-overprotective. So maybe it was worth it after all.

☾


End file.
